


The Sky Burns Red

by magnusbicon (patrickbrewer)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Blood, Coda, Communication, Episode: s03e20 City of Glass, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Minor Injuries, Spoilers, War, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18567712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickbrewer/pseuds/magnusbicon
Summary: “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Alec. Not in all of the centuries I’ve been alive.”Alec’s heart beats painfully in his chest for a moment at the words, his brain catching on one in particular.“Love?” he asks tentatively, taking a step closer. “Present tense?”





	The Sky Burns Red

**Author's Note:**

> I'm choosing to believe that Asmodeus physically controls Magnus and makes him open the rift in 3x20. 😬
> 
> But anyway, I hope y'all survived the episode! Feel free to yell with me on tumblr (same username as here) anytime! 💜

Alec is only half conscious when he sees him. 

Demons soar through the sky, nearly blocking the light entirely with their number. They spill out of the rift without pause, infinite and deadly. Alec watches Shadowhunters fall left and right as he staggers forward, hands pressing to his side, where a gash is steadily bleeding. He has no idea where his stele is, he’s out of arrows, he lost Isabelle and Jace ages ago, and he could be taken down at any moment.

But he keeps moving forward, breaths heavy and ragged, because just a couple hundred yards away he sees Magnus, arms extended and red magic swirling at his fingertips as Shadowhunters surround him. There is no option but to go to him, to fight through whatever energy he has left.

He will not watch Magnus Bane die today. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he hears as he gets closer.

His throat tightens at the sound of Magnus’ voice, desperate and begging. He walks faster, sucking in harsh breaths as his side stings with pain. He’s almost there, just another few feet.

They lock eyes.

Magnus’ eyebrows crease, temporarily distracted by Alec’s presence, and the Shadowhunters move in, seraph blades held out. Alec opens his mouth, ready to yell out a warning, but between one blink and the next they’re off of their feet, hanging in the air. Magic circles their necks, holding them in place, and they clasp at their throats, eyes wide.

“Magnus,” Alec chokes out, voice hoarse with exhaustion, “let them go. Please.”

Magnus stares at him for a moment, expression unreadable, then carefully lowers them back to the ground. They lean over, each of them catching their breath before they turn back to Magnus, fury evident in the tenseness of their shoulders.

“Stop,” Alec barks out before they can get any closer. “I’ll handle this. You can go.”

“He just tried to kill us,” one of them snaps, glaring at him. 

“No,  _you_  tried to kill  _him_. He defended himself. If he really wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.  _Go_.” 

They hesitate, but ultimately comply, running back to where the main fight is happening. When Alec turns back to Magnus, he is looking down at his hands, chest rising and falling quickly. 

“What have I done?” he whispers, anguish coating every syllable.

“This wasn’t you,” Alec says, stepping closer. “This was Asmodeus. He manipulated you, and...and I let him. If I hadn’t let him convince me, none of this would have happened.”

Magnus looks up sharply, hands dropping to his sides and mouth falling open slightly.

“What do you mean convince you?” 

A wave of sadness crashes through Alec’s chest and he shakes his head, looking down at his feet. 

“I went to a Warlock who could channel him. I didn’t want to summon him and put you or New York in any more danger. I asked him to give you your magic and immortality back, and he agreed, but only if I broke up with you.”

He sees Magnus cross his arms over his chest in his peripheral vision. 

“He told me I was the source of all of your pain and that you’d grow to resent me if I didn’t. He said I’d be the death of you, and when I said you would never agree, he told me you could never know.”

“And you listened? You believed what he said after everything I told you about him?” 

Anger saturates Magnus’ voice, and Alec looks back up, lips tilting down regretfully.

“All I knew was that you were suffering and I needed to fix it. You loved so many people before me, and you got through losing them. You found happiness again. But without your magic, you never would. This was the only way I knew how to get that piece of you back.” 

Magnus scoffs, shaking his head, but Alec can see tears brimming in his eyes. 

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Alec. Not in all of the centuries I’ve been alive.”

Alec’s heart beats painfully in his chest for a moment at the words, his brain catching on one in particular.

“Love?” he asks tentatively, taking a step closer. “Present tense?” 

Magnus meets his eyes once more, gaze wide with a vulnerability that hadn’t been present just a moment ago.

“Alexander,” he says softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yes. Present tense.”

They watch each other for a moment, hesitant, before Alec leans in and catches his lips. Magnus’ hand immediately raises to his neck, holding him in place as he sighs, breath washing across Alec’s chin. They kiss slowly, savoring the moment while they still can, until Magnus’ other hand comes up to rest at Alec’s side. He pulls back, pulling in a breath through clenched teeth, and Magnus’ eyes widen with concern. 

“You’re hurt,” he realizes, stepping back with blue magic already rising from his palms. 

“It’s nothing,” Alec replies, but the wisps are already seeping into the wound and bringing the skin back together, leaving behind a pink scar. 

Magnus gives him a deadpan look, but there is an a fondness underneath that makes a chill run down Alec’s spine.

“We need to stop this,” Magnus says. “I need to close the rift. But I can’t do it by myself. My father controlled me, combined my power with his.”

Alec smiles and reaches out, curling his fingers around Magnus’ own. 

“You don’t have to do it alone. But I’m going to need you to summon up a stele.”

Magnus tilts his head questioningly but doesn’t hesitate, pressing a freshly conjured stele into Alec’s palm.

And there, under the red, swirling sky, Alec draws the alliance rune on both of their wrists. 


End file.
